The Stranglehold Protocol
by Cyblade Silver
Summary: X-Day has given Chronos full control over the world, but not all of the rebellions have been pacified...
1. Worry and Waiting

_**Disclaimer:**__ Guyver and the canon characters created therein do not belong to me; the only ones that do are Ryan Crouger, his family, and the assorted soldiers of the ACTF. All except for Atkins, who showed up in the second live-action movie._

**The Stranglehold Protocol**

Back in his room at Cloud Gate, Imakarum brooded. Kenji was hurt, unconscious, possibly dying; and where was he? He was in the Japan Section, instead of by his son's side where he belonged. True, he was to be Lord Alkanphel's eyes and ears among the Council, but he still couldn't help but feel that he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Even after he had rested his body, Imakarum found that his mind was still troubled.

It was not that he had any genuine desire to betray his Lord, Imakarum was simply worried for Kenji's sake.

Perhaps he worried too much, however. There was really no place that Kenji would be safer than in the hands of Lord Alkanphel; and so there was no reason for him to worry so much. Aside from that, the Council would be convened soon.

It was truly best that he begin preparing for that inevitable meeting. Such preparations would of course entail organizing his thoughts, and for that he would need to relax. Perhaps a shower and a quick nap would be able to help him accomplish such a task; Kenji's equilibrium seemed to be restored quite well by those very things. And, at the very least they were sure to help him wake up, and Imakarum knew that he would need to be fully awake to perform his duty as a member of the Council and as Lord Alkanphel's go-between with them.

Making his way to the shower room attached to his quarters, Imakarum heard the door slide shut behind him as he began preparing for his shower.

XxXxX

The warehouse was the perfect place to conceal the new base that they were going to build. The ACTF needed a forward base, a place that Chronos wouldn't be able to connect to the Alpha Site but also somewhere that was as well concealed as their base there. That was why he and a certain little wiseass were down here in the tunnels playing mole.

"You know, all this boring is getting incredibly boring."

"Real cute, kid," he deadpanned.

The little wiseass had been tormenting him with bad puns almost since he'd been let out; it was enough to make him want to envelop the kid just to shut him up, but the few times he'd tried he'd ended up getting blown up from the inside. Needless to say, that wasn't the kind of thing he went out of his way to invite.

Carrying another armful of rocks over to where one of the others was working, wearing a body that combined Darzerb's napalm-breath and extreme heat resistance with the more flexible hands and marginally more flexible body of a Galmaru, he set the new rockpile down just beside the severely diminished pile that all that remained of the batch he'd brought over about half an hour or so ago. It made it really easy to get rid of most of the rock; they just melted it down into the structure of the new base.

That was part of the reason that Atkins didn't want them moving any weapons in here yet: live ammo and high heat really didn't mix well.

It was one of the kid's more demented ideas that had both given him a way to get rid of the dirt without anyone looking twice at him, and a very good excuse for needing building materials. Turning the warehouse above them into what amounted to a giant, indoor garden also gave him some very good reasons for interacting with the people in this little middle-of-nowhere town. They all seemed to like the fruits and vegetables that came out of what the kid had taken to calling his "lush gardens". The name had stuck, especially since he hadn't really cared enough about what had pretty much amounted to a really good cover story to name it anything himself.

Speaking of cover stories, he'd managed to build himself a reputation as a real physically affectionate guy – always shaking hands or patting backs or some such stuff – he'd even hugged a few of the female Zoanoids who'd come his way. He personally thought it was funny as all hell: here he was, able to infect those idiots with a single touch, and they were all lining up like good little lemmings. One of the girls had even kissed him; sure, it had just been on the cheek, but that didn't really mean so much in the long run.

The fact that this little nowhere town was filled with nothing but Zoanoids meant that there was good eating all around, and it also meant that there would be a fair bit less hassle when they finally started moving the soldiers in. All in all, this new base – Ryan had said that Sean had told him it was going to be called the Beta Site – was coming along well. Kansas, center of absolutely nothing, had definitely been the best place to really start their campaign to kick Chronos' sorry ass from.

He and the kid both agreed on that.

XxXxX

As he pulled yet _another_ batch of rocks free, carrying them over to where Aptom and his merry band of minions were waiting for his contributions, Ryan reflected that if he never had to see another rock for as long as he lived, he could die a happy man. He and Elegen had pretty much agreed that that wasn't going to happen any time soon, and when he'd made the comment that he was so sick of rocks that he could just puke, that had segued into a discussion of whether or not Guyvers _could_ puke.

They still hadn't managed to reach a consensus on that, but by now they were more into arguing just for the sake of argument; that, and not being bored out of their respective skulls. Of course, mentally griping about their current situation – and occasionally sleeping – wouldn't get their work done any faster.

Well, the sleeping might make it _seem_ that way, but only because someone else was doing the work.

He'd been doing without sleep for most of the time he'd been down in this hole – however long _that_ was – mostly because, while he was in the Guyver, little things like being tired and hungry just didn't seem to matter anymore. It was only those few times that Ryan remembered that he was _supposed_ to be tired that he ended up actually being tired, so he figured that the tiredness was more of a psychosomatic thing than anything real. Needless to say, hunger and thirst weren't particularly big issues.

Carrying over his fifty-millionth rockpile – or however many batches of those things he'd actually manhandled by now – Ryan paused to look up at the ceiling. This place, no matter how big it was in terms of actual space, was starting to feel distinctly cramped again. He knew what that meant: it meant he'd better go topside and get some actual _air_, before he went stir-crazy and did something weird again. Something like streaking through the gardens while Aptom and his merry band of minions were moving in the new dirt.

Of course, they'd all had a pretty good laugh after that, but it really wasn't a good idea to have something like that happening too often; Chronos still thought they were all dead, sure, but it really only took one clear sighting to open up a manhunt.

That was why he wasn't going to go any farther than the tool shed/base entrance when he made it up top. The place had enough ventilation for him to breathe some fresh air, but no windows so that he didn't risk violating their all-important secrecy before they were ready to come out kicking ass. This was a good thing, he knew.

Shedding his Guyver as he made his way up the ladder, Ryan reached the top and checked the trapdoor to make sure there wasn't anyone standing on it. He didn't have to worry about concealment inside the shed itself, only Aptom and his merry minions were allowed in there, anyway. It made dealing with the issues of secrecy a lot easier than it would have been otherwise, and he was sure that Aptom liked having less hassle in his life.

God knew _he_ did.

Sitting down carefully on top of a stack of dirtbags – actual _bags of dirt_, one of the few things actually stored in this building that purported to be a storage shed – Ryan waved a silent hello to the Aptom moving some crushed rock out of the place. The Aptom waved back, and that was pretty much the extent of his interaction for the time being.

They'd stopped hitting dirt – at least for the most part – a few something or others ago. He couldn't really count it in days or nights since he didn't keep anything even resembling a normal schedule anymore, but he'd slept once since they'd started hitting more rock than dirt. Ryan could remember the last time he'd slept particularly vividly, since he'd done it curled up on top of a pair of Aptom's minions who'd turned themselves into Alvix for just that occasion.

Their fur had been softer than he'd expected, but maybe that was just because those particular minions had known that he'd be using them as a short-order bedroll. It'd been a better sleep than he ever would have had staying on the dirt, and for that he was grateful. Of course, trying to get a good sleep on dirt inevitably brought up thoughts of worms, and thinking about worms wasn't in any way conductive to getting a good night's – or day's, or whatever's – sleep.

But he wasn't feeling tired at the moment, really he was more hungry than anything, so he tapped the nearest minion – one wearing a Galmaru – on the arm, raised an eyebrow and mouthed "food".

Said minion patted him on the head in that way that let Ryan know that he'd have chuckled if the shed hadn't been declared a strict no-talking zone. Then, of course, he left for the outside. Ryan himself was starting to crave that outside, but he knew damn well that he had to stay down in the proto-Beta Site until Aptom and the minions had either eaten all of the Zoanoids in this little middle-of-nowhere town, or else had turned them into yet more minions just like the one who'd gone out to fetch him some food.

Said minion came back inside with his arms full of apples, and Ryan ate them happily while at the same time wishing that he could get more meat in his diet. It might not have mattered so much when he was transformed, since the Guyver itself supplied him with enough energy to keep digging for as long as he had – or, more importantly, _wanted_ – to, but that didn't mean that he wasn't missing the taste of the foods he could no longer get his hands on. Aptom and the minions had managed to find some candy stores and a few doughnut shops, and Ryan could still remember – _very_ fondly and particularly vividly – the last time that Aptom had brought him a tall stack of pancakes.

He'd even brought butter and syrup; Ryan had ended up having to eat them down in the not-quite-Beta-Site, since he hadn't been at all sure that he could control himself considering the near-orgasmic thrill of being able to eat warm, syrupy pancakes after having been deprived of such for so very, very long. As it had turned out, he'd been right to take precautions: he'd ended up making a bunch of noises that Aptom and the minions had said sounded like he was having the best sex of his life.

He'd said that it was better than sex; not that he'd had a basis for comparison.

But it'd been funny and they'd all had a good laugh, so things were all good on his end. Now if only there was a way for him to get his hands on some pizza…

_+Ryan, how are you holding up?+_

_+I'm all right. Getting kinda bored with the rocks and dirt and minions, though.+_

_+I guess that's understandable. How's work on the new base going?+_

_+I'd say the space down here is about twice the size of my house by now.+_

_+Do you think we'll be able to start moving our soldiers in soon?+_

_+I doubt it. Not unless they like the idea of having to work around me and the minions while we're trying to enlarge the place.+_

_+All right, I'll pass that along to Atkins. You know he still might want to send some people out to you, right?+_

_+Yeah, I know,+_ he said, nodding in spite of the fact that he knew Sean couldn't see it. _+I don't think we'd be able to accommodate too many of them, though.+_

_+I'll pass _that_ along, too. Have you been doing anything interesting lately?+_

_+Just eating apples, and wishing I had some mushroom pizza instead.+_

He heard Sean chuckle over the link. _+I know the feeling.+_

XxXxX

There were twenty-two paces needed to get from one end of the kidlet's spacious office to the other; he'd walked every one of them. Several times, by now. Ingriam Mirabilis, his commanding Zoalord and the Overlord of the Africa Section, had been missing for nearly three days by now. He'd been worried ever since the end of the _first_ day, and that was actually the first time he'd stayed in the kidlet's office for the entire day.

It hadn't been the last, of course.

Zektor was at the point where he was seriously ready to march into Cloud Gate – likely as not where the kidlet was actually _staying_ – and demand to know where his Overlord was. He just had to wait for the rest of Team Five to confirm that they had everything that needed looking after well in hand. He knew that the best place to look for their little Overlord was in the Japan Section – since that was where his dear old dad worked – and, no matter how much of a deadbeat that guy might have been, or how personally annoying Zektor himself might have found His Excellency Imakarum Mirabilis, it was patently obvious that their little Overlord would always love him.

Those two were family, all things considered, so he guessed it fit.

"Hey, I thought I'd find you back in here. Worrying again, huh?"

Of all the members of Team Five that could have come, he was particularly glad to see that it was Elegen. One of the added benefits of their relationship was that they understood each other without the need for too many words.

"Are things all ready? Can I _leave_ now?"

"Yeah, we've got it all under control, boss." Elegen wasn't offended for a second; Zektor allowed himself a small smile. "You just go and find the boss, and tell him we all miss him. Make sure you ask him about when he thinks he'll get back, too."

"I will," he said, nodding as he turned to go.

He was leaving without a goodbye kiss, true, but at the moment he was a lot more interested in finding out where their little Overlord was and how he was doing than in giving his boyfriend a proper farewell. Elegen would understand, since they all liked the kidlet just as much as anyone who had ever known him. He and the rest of Team Five had certainly taken better care of the kidlet than that idiot father of his had ever bothered to.

When he'd made it to the roof, Zektor found that there were only two transport 'copters stored in the covered section of the heliport. That was about what he'd been expecting, and he didn't particularly want to use the kidlet's private helicopter just on the off chance that he would be bringing him back home. The pilots weren't likely to be too amicable to the idea of a "mere" Hyper Zoanoid – even one who _was_ the trusted advisor and confidant of his commanding Overlord the way he and the rest of Team Five were – using a Zoalord's own private 'copter. So he'd take the other one and make his way to Cloud Gate.

He'd head to the Japan Section and tell the kidlet that he was missed.


	2. Council Matters

Sitting in his place at the far left of the Council's specially made table, Imakarum brooded. Kenji could have been dying and he wouldn't even know about it until it was too late; Lord Alkanphel was with him, but that wasn't as reassuring as it might have been otherwise. It wasn't any ordinary wound that Kenji had suffered; his son's Zoacrystal had been damaged by that bastard Agito Makashima. He had never known of any Zoalord who had managed to survive without their Zoacrystal.

Lord Alkanphel had torn the traitor Reholt's Zoacrystal from him and then cast him down into the remains of Mt. Minakami; there were no doubts in Imakarum's mind that Reholt was dead.

When he looked back to the wall-sized viewscreen, beholding again the damage that had been done to the city during the course of his battle with Gigantic Dark, Imakarum turned in slight startlement as he heard Lord Jearvill speaking to him.

"What were you thinking, to use the Virtual Black Hole so deep inside the city?"

"You were acting on the orders of Lord Alkanphel, were you not?" Lord Edward asked.

Imakarum knew that he could not answer that question with any real amount of detail; the information about Lord Alkanphel's health had been given in complete confidence. In the end, all he could do was nod in confirmation and hope that he would not be required to answer any further inquiries. However, he was not required to do such a thing after all.

It seemed that the rest of the Council was not curious about Lord Alkanphel at all; or at least not about his health.

"I don't understand what Lord Alkanphel could have been thinking," Lord Jearvill said. "I mean no offense to you, Imakarum. But, I still wonder if you were indeed the best man for this particular task."

Before he could speak, to defend Lord Alkanphel's decision and to explain the reasoning behind it, Lord Yentsui deigned to express his opinion.

"I would also appreciate knowing why that it was our newest member was the one chosen to deal with one of the greatest remaining threats to our organization." Lord Yentsui turned an expression of controlled curiosity on him. "A test of loyalty, perhaps?"

There was no trace of mockery in the Seventh Zoalord's voice or manner, so Imakarum wasn't as offended as he would have been otherwise. The fact that some of the Council doubted his loyalty to Lord Alkanphel still rankled, however.

"Perhaps that is the case," Lord Kaburaal said. "Still, it feels as though our Lord is neglecting those of us who have served him loyally for so many years."

"Enough of this!" Lord Hamilcal shouted, drawing the attention of all of the Zoalords present with his uncharacteristic outburst. "The only way that we well have any chance of dealing with our remaining enemies is if we stand together."

"I apologize if our words sounded rebellious to you, doctor," Lord Fried'rich said, inclining his head slightly. "But we were merely concerned about these recent events. None of our number is quite certain what to make of the apparent neglect that Lord Alkanphel is showing to us, his oldest followers."

"Speaking of concern over recent events," Lord Waferdanos began, turning to face him. "How is your son recovering from this last battle? I've not been able to receive word on his condition from any of the treatment centers in this Section."

Imakarum tensed imperceptibly; it was only natural that Lord Waferdanos would want to keep himself informed about Kenji's health, as the two of them had become rather good friends. He was glad that his son had managed to make friends among his peers, but the fact remained that he could not tell even Lord Waferdanos about Silha. Lord Alkanphel had been very clear that no one was to know about either his deteriorating health or his sanctuary at Silha.

Only he, Kenji, and Lord Hamilcal were permitted to know of Lord Alkanphel's increasing weakness.

"I appreciate your concern, Lord Waferdanos, and I'm certain that Kenji will as well, when he regains consciousness," he said, offering a grateful smile to the Third Zoalord. "He's been receiving treatment for his injuries, so I'm sure that he'll be fine soon." _I'm just not sure how soon,_ Imakarum mused inwardly.

"Well, I'm sure that we're all pleased to learn that our youngest colleague will be recovering with all possible speed," Lord Kaburaal said, smiling softly. "Poor boy; taking a blow meant for his father. What must he have been thinking?"

"Yes," Lord Fried'rich said; even as Imakarum berated himself for not being able to save Kenji from his fate somehow. "Ingriam's concern for his father is most commendable, and he has my condolences that he must suffer as he did. As do you, Imakarum." He nodded in acknowledgement to Lord Fried'rich for his consideration when he noticed the Fifth Zoalord's gaze on him. "But we are straying from our original purpose. We have gathered here to ask all members of the Council to cooperate in the destruction of the Gigantic Guyver, and to make a concrete plan as to how that will be accomplished."

"Purg'stall, you can't be serious!" Lord Hamilcal exclaimed, all but leaping from his seat. "We cannot hope to make such ambitious decisions without orders from Lord Alkanphel!"

"What _are_ we supposed to do, then? Are we to simply wait for Lord Alkanphel's orders when we do not even know where he is? We will not even be permitted to hunt for the creature, or to defend ourselves if and when it comes for us? I am quite certain that all of our forces have had at least _one_ encounter with Agito Makashima at this time. If given the chance, he will leave none of us alive. Are we to give him the opportunity he has doubtless been searching for, simply because we find ourselves out of contact with Lord Alkanphel?"

"Fried'rich, please," Lord Shin said, raising his left hand in a placating gesture.

"Lord Alkanphel," Imakarum began, pausing briefly when Lord Hamilcal shouted at him over their telepathic link, but then forging ahead in spite of it. "He's with Kenji. He's taken a rather personal interest in my son's health."

"Well then, I suppose there's no question that young Ingriam will be back on his feet quite quickly," Lord Jearvill said, smiling kindly.

"That _is_ good news," Lord Shin added.

"Yes, I am pleased to know that the missing member of our Council will not be in such dire straits for much longer," Lord Fried'rich said, and then he sighed. "And I apologize for my earlier outburst. It was never my intention to oppose Lord Alkanphel, but we cannot simply ignore the loss of one of our comrades. Nor can we allow the one who would seek to cause us even greater losses to escape with such minimal consequences."

"I agree with that assessment, Lord Fried'rich," he said. "And, with the Ark project not yet complete, we will need cooperation from all twelve Zoalords not only to deal with the threat posed by the two remaining Guyvers, but to import the remaining resources to the ship."


	3. Tunnel Crawlers

_+So when are these new guys coming, again?+_

_+They'll be there in a week,+_ he said, more focused on his food than on the conversation he was having; this was the first bowl of hot oatmeal he'd gotten to enjoy since Atkins had decided to move their main contingent of soldiers to the new base that Ryan and Aptom were helping to excavate, after all.

_+And about when would that be, do ya think?+_

_+It's seven days, Ryan,+_ he said, rolling his eyes in good-natured exasperation. _+You should be able to count them off.+_

_+Sean, have you ever tried to count off days when you're stuck down a really big hole?+_

_+I guess you have a point,+_ he conceded, staring down into his half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. _+And it's not like you can really count on Aptom to do much besides blow stuff up and eat people.+_

_+Pretty much why I don't bother asking _him_ about any of this in the first place.+_

_+I figured as much,+_ he said, drinking some more of his milk and then wiping his face. _+I tell you what: I'll contact you about when the troops are supposed to arrive. And, I'll see if I can arrange for someone to pick up some pizza for you.+_

_+Thanks, Sean; it's nice to know someone's still thinking about me over there.+_

_+If I'd been stuck alone with that guy for five straight months, I'd want to know someone was still thinking about _me_,_ _too,+_ he said, finishing his oatmeal and tossing the empty paper bowl into the compost bin. _+I'll talk to you in a week, Ryan.+_

_+Yeah. I look forward to it, Sean.+_

Once their link had gone dormant again, he turned and headed back toward the laboratory that Professor Odagiri had set up for himself. The professor had moved his gear down into the Alpha Site once new group of scientists had been moved into what had once been NORAD. There was no real way to tell which of them were loyal to Chronos and which would side with the ACTF if given the chance. It would only take one Chronos-loyal scientist catching sight of Odagiri to bring the full force of their Intelligence Division down on their heads.

None of them were willing to risk the lives of their civilian protectorates that way.

"Hello, Sean. What brings you back down here?"

"Afternoon, Professor," he said, pausing at the threshold until Odagiri waved him in. "I just wanted to see if you needed help with anything else."

"No. Thank you, but anything else that I might need moved into my laboratory would all be things that I can handle myself."

"Still, it'd be faster with more than one person," he pointed out reasonably. "So, if you do decide that you'd like more help, all you have to do is call me."

"Thank you for your offer, Sean. I may take you up on it, if I find myself pressed for time in some fashion."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, turning to leave. "I'll see you at dinner?"

"That's very likely, Sean," the older man said, chuckling softly.

"All right, then," he said, nodding as he resumed his interrupted walk.

Professor Odagiri was an interesting person to talk to; not only for the insider's perspective that he could offer about life in Chronos, but for the insights that he could offer about the Advents: their technology and their influence on human history. Of course, those were more the things that Cori and Atkins would talk to the Professor about; he'd sat in a few times with Cori as she and Odagiri had hashed out all kinds of theories as to what kind of impact the artifacts that the Advents had left behind had had on the development of human culture and civilization; it'd been all anthropology or archeology talk, and he'd gotten completely lost after the first ten minutes and offered to go get coffee, though he was sure that Cori at least had known the real reason why he'd left. What he was more interested in, however, were the stories that the former Chronos scientist could tell about the time he'd spent with two of Sean's fellow Guyvers.

From the stories he'd told, plus the ones that Ryan had shared, Sean felt like he had a pretty good grasp of just who the two Japanese Guyvers were and what they wanted out of life.

Agito sounded too harsh, too driven, and entirely too cagey for Sean to be comfortable with the Third Guyver being one of them. Sho, on the other hand, seemed to be too _nice_ to be fighting _any_ kind of war; much less one that would determine the future of the human race. Or whether there would even _be_ a human race left to _have_ a future.

Sometimes, it seemed like he and Ryan were the only real hope that humanity had left to come out on top; it was a lonely feeling. Especially now that he and Ryan were in entirely different states, now. He'd probably be joining his fellow Guyver sometime, probably when there were enough Aptom clones down in the Alpha Site to deal with a Zoanoid incursion. Not that any of them were actually _hoping_ for something like that, but it was best to be prepared in any case.

XxXxX

As he settled into his bed for another night, Sho realized that he hadn't spoken with Ryan for almost a month. The last time he'd spoken with his fellow Guyver, the red-haired boy had seemed weary about something; not so much like he hadn't been sleeping, but like he was doing a boring job and would have liked nothing more than for it to have been over. They hadn't talked for very long; Ryan hadn't been in the mood, and he himself had been asked by Agito to use the Gigantic to protect a group of transports that were carrying vital supplies for their war against Chronos.

_+Ryan?+_

_+Yo, Sho.+_

_+Are you feeling better now?+_

_+Well, my workload's gotten a bit lighter since Aptom started bringing over all those new minions, so that's good.+_

_+I'm glad you're feeling better,+_ he said, smiling softly. _+But what are you and Aptom actually doing, Ryan?+_

_+We're excavating a new base for the ACTF to use. After all, those guys can't very well be seen coming back to the Alpha Site after they've just been spotted somewhere wrecking Chronos' shit. It might blow our cover, and end up getting the people we're trying to protect killed. Or worse.+_

Ryan had sounded like his normal, carefree self when he'd started, but by the end he'd been just as grim as anyone else when he'd spoken about the possible fate of the people he was protecting. Sho could understand; he could still remember what being processed had done to Mr. Murakami. Those cruel, slitted eyes staring out of the face that still belonged to someone he had considered both a friend and something of a mentor were burned into his memory by now.

It was almost enough to make Sho wish that he'd never found the Guyver in the first place; but he had people he wanted to protect, just like Ryan.

_+Sho, you still with me?+_

_+Yes. I'm sorry, Ryan. I was just thinking.+_

_+About what? If you don't mind my asking.+_

_+I don't mind. It's just… sometimes I wish things could have been different, somehow.+_

_+I don't think there's many of us who _don't_ feel that way. Well, all except for Agito, but we both know how he is.+_

_+Yeah… Listen, I don't want to keep you up if you're getting ready to go to sleep, Ryan.+_

His fellow Guyver's jovial laugh sounded, different but somehow the same, over the link they shared. _+Who's been sleeping lately? Certainly not _me_. Besides, you'd really be amazed how long you can go without sleep when you're in the Guyver.+_

_+I never knew that,+_ Sho said, pausing as he remembered the varied circumstances that had lead to him shedding the armor. _+Have you been using the weapons?+_

_+Well, the Pressure Cannon does a really good job of pulverizing those annoying rocks that I keep having to deal with lately; turns them right to dust. I haven't been using the Mega Smasher, if that's what you're wondering. The huge power-requirements notwithstanding, that thing would just be too damned obvious for this job.+_

_+Oh,+_ he said, yawning; he supposed that made sense.

_+You still there, Sho? You kind of trailed off on me there.+_

_+I'm fine, Ryan,+_ he said, not wanting to worry the younger Guyver.

_+Sho, _you_ weren't about to go to sleep when you decided to try contacting me, were you?+_

_+Well…+_

_+I can't believe you sometimes,+_ Ryan said, sounding more like a fondly exasperated older brother than anything else. _+Go to sleep, doofus. I'll still be here next month. And, the next time you want to contact me, make sure you do it some time in the morning. All right?+_

_+All right, Ryan,+_ he said, as he laid back down in his bed. _+Take care of yourself.+_

_+I will. You just remember to do the same, hear me?+_

_+Yes,+_ Sho said, closing his eyes.

Ryan was right: there would be time for the two of them to talk when he had gotten some decent rest…

XxXxX

The fact that all of them were staying undetected inside a Chronos processing facility wasn't what had her in such high-spirits, nor was it the fact that they had managed to recruit four new soldiers into the post-Chronos ACTF; although both of those things were contributing in their own way to her good mood. It was more the fact that they were doing all of this right under the noses of those insufferably arrogant Zoalords that made her feel so good about their current situation.

Those twelve bastards had set themselves up as the supreme rulers of the entire world, and she just loved the poetic justice of hiding deep inside one of their own bases when she was a part of the organization poised to take them all down.

The Zoanoid candidates were vetted carefully by the various scientists and Aptom clones that now staffed this base; if they were really so brainwashed by Chronos' propaganda machine that they honestly _wanted_ to become Zoanoids, then the techs would take them down to the labs to have it done. Then Aptom would shake their hand once they had completed the process, supposedly as a gesture of welcome, but really so that they didn't have any Chronos-loyal Zoanoids around to report in to their masters when the time came.

Jessica really didn't care about whatever stupid reasons those stupid people had to want to become those kinds of inhuman monsters; Chronos had all but killed her brother, and so anyone who supported might as well have signed their own death certificate as far as she was concerned.

It was the people who had been coerced into giving up their humanity – whether by friends or by the people who claimed to love them – that were the recipients of Jessica's sympathy. Those people were taken aside and talked to, first by Aptom or some of his clones, then by the scientists who had once worked for Chronos. Then, if they passed those first two tests, they were taken down into the sub-basement levels and introduced to Lieutenant Richards.

If they only passed the first test, they were left under the care of the scientists until they had decided one way or another. And, if they failed both tests, then they were processed and things proceeded apace with Aptom; and Jessica wrote them off as a lost cause.

This base's complement of non-perishable rations were being appropriated for the stocking of the new base that Ryan and more of Aptom's clones were excavating just outside the limits of this small Kansas town. That would help to sustain the soldiers who were going to be sent down there to assist in fully establishing it as the ACTF's newest stronghold. Aside from that, the kid would probably be happy as a clam to get some _real_ food in him; given Aptom's reports, he'd been spending all his time in the Guyver armor lately.

That thing may have been able to sustain him without any food or sleep, as well as being one hell of a badass weapon on top of that, but there was really nothing that could compare to the taste of real food in your mouth. Or the feel of a full stomach, as opposed to one that you just didn't notice was empty.

Dried fruit and meat might have been a poor substitute for real food, but they were better than nothing; at least, that was what Jessica tried to tell herself.


	4. Discussions among Lords

When he'd arrived at Cloud Gate, it was to what had become the standard reception for a visiting Hyper Zoanoid: a hot meal and lodging in one of the top-floor guest rooms for as long as he needed it. The long flight from the Africa Section to the Japan Section, with only his own worries to keep him company hadn't been easy for even _him_ to endure. He'd ended up telling them to hold the meal for later, and just heading off to bed.

Now that he'd gotten at least _some_ sleep – not much, but some – it was time for him to find out just what had happened to his little Overlord. What had happened to the kidlet; who he and the rest of Team Five had sworn to protect above all, no matter what it cost them in the end.

As he made his way down to the main concourse, hoping to catch sight of a fellow Hyper Zoanoid or someone who was comparably high-ranking so that he could ask _them_ just what was going on, Zektor sighed softly. The way things were shaping up, it was becoming pretty damned obvious that something bad had happened to the kidlet. _How_ bad it was remained to be seen, but there wasn't anything else that would have kept a Zoalord like him away from his territory for so long but some kind of horrible, debilitating injury.

No one could even accuse him of being a mother-hen this time, since they all knew how many friends the kidlet had made back in the Africa Section.

Leaning back against the far wall of the elevator, his arms folded across his chest, Zektor tried not to fidget too much. Now that he had realized just how bad their little Overlord's situation had to be, however, it was getting harder for him to maintain his composure.

When someone else stepped into the elevator he didn't react at first, too worried about what might have been happening to the little Overlord of the Africa Section to pay much attention to the comings and goings of the other people who staffed Cloud Gate. At least, that was the case until he noticed the _truly_ immense psychic force that the newcomer was radiating into the confined space of the elevator. It must have been one of the other Zoalords; here at last was his chance to get some answers.

"Greetings, Your Excellency," he said, bowing slightly to the Zoalord that he now realized was Overlord Fried'rich von Purg'stall.

"Good morning, Zektor," the Zoalord said, pausing briefly as his gaze assessed and catalogued what he was seeing; it almost made Zektor feel like he was being dissected. Not really comforting. "What brings _you_ back here? The last I had heard of you and your team, you had all been transferred to the Genesis Tower in Nigeria."

"Yeah," he muttered, depression overcoming him for a moment before he remembered just where he was; remembered just who he was talking to. "If you could, maybe, spare a minute out of your busy schedule, Excellency, I was wondering if you could tell me where Overlord Ingriam Mirabilis is. He hasn't been back to the base in awhile, and I," he paused, the words sticking in his throat for a moment before he pressed on; it wasn't much use, trying to keep secrets from a guy who could read your mind. "Well, I worry about him."

"Your concern does you credit," Overlord Purg'stall said, a small smile just visible on his aristocratic face.

"Thanks," he said, anxious for answers but not quite willing to press one of the Nine Overlords themselves.

"The boy was injured, as a result of a battle he took part in five days prior. He survives," Overlord Purg'stall said quickly, clearly in response to the look of abject horror that Zektor could feel overtaking his face. "However, he has been taken to a secluded treatment center to recover."

Zektor had almost stopped listening when Overlord Purg'stall had said that the kidlet was injured, because what in the hell could actually manage to _injure_ a Zoalord? Their recovery-rates were the stuff of legend. He'd listened long enough to find out that the kidlet was going to be all right, and now there was just one more thing that he wanted to know.

"Where is he now? Could I go see him?"

"I'm afraid that I would not be able to direct you there. Only Lord Alkanphel and Imakarum know the location of the treatment center, and as Lord Alkanphel has elected to stay with the boy as he heals, you will have to ask Imakarum himself for directions."

_Yeah, that's real likely._ The fact that he had his fair share of personal issues with His Excellency Lord Imakarum Mirabilis wasn't even the full extent of the problem he could see with that plan. The fact that their situation had pretty much degenerated into mutual loathing was more what he was concerned about. "I'll keep that in mind."

XxXxX

Fried'rich could sense that Zektor was holding something back from him, but he suspected that it was not anything particularly damaging; he did not press for details on that matter.

"What do you plan to do now?" he asked, taking in the obvious tension in the Hyper Zoanoid's frame.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll just head back to the Tower; we've been looking after it for him for this long, shouldn't cost us much to keep at it," Zektor paused, clearly morose, but for a reason that Fried'rich was unable to determine. "The others, they'll want to know about this."

"Are you not going to visit him, then?" he asked, rather surprised that Zektor would not want to visit young Ingriam after expressing such commendable concern for his commanding Zoalord. "I am certain that Imakarum would be willing to tell you where his son is staying."

"Yeah," Zektor scoffed. "_Sure_ he would."

"What do you mean?" he asked, turning to face the Hyper Zoanoid more squarely.

"Sorry, this is my stop," Zektor said, his posture and manner both indicating that he would tolerate no further discussion on the matter. "Maybe I'll see you again before I leave. Your Excellency."

And, with a quick, respectful bow, Zektor had left the elevator. The fact that he had been asked to meet with Imakarum and Dr. Balkus precluded his going after Zektor rather completely, but he would at least be able to determine whether the animosity that Zektor seemed to feel for Ingriam's father was mutual or not. In the latter case, he would have to speak to both the boy and his father about matters.

However, that was not the most pressing concern on his mind at the moment; he was far more curious about just what Dr. Balkus had called himself, Imakarum, and Shin together to discus.

When the elevator slowed to a stop once more, Fried'rich looked up to see that Shin was the one joining him this time.

"It is good to see you again, old friend," he stated, smiling and nodding at his fellow Zoalord; one of the oldest friends he had made within Chronos. "You're looking well."

"Good morning to you as well, Fried'rich," Shin said, and then paused, looking him over for a long moment. "You seem stressed. Are you unwell?"

"I just met up with Zektor. He and the rest of Team Five are apparently acting as the caretakers of the Africa Section in Ingriam's absence."

"Their dedication to him is quite admirable. But I sense that this is not what troubles you."

"No," he conceded, pausing briefly to gather his thoughts. "What troubles me is that it seems Zektor has developed an unhealthy animosity towards Imakarum Mirabilis."

"How could he care for Ingriam, then, if he holds the boy's father in such low regard?" Shin asked, giving voice to the question that had been bothering Fried'rich himself.

"I do not know," he admitted. "However, I would prefer to see Imakarum's reaction to Zektor before I make any precipitous conclusions. It is entirely possible that the situation has more variables than I am currently aware of."

Shin nodded wordlessly, and the two of them continued on their journey to the lower levels; back toward the meeting hall that they had used two days prior, in a comfortable silence. Once the elevator had stopped at the lowest useable levels of Cloud Gate's sub-basement, and the doors had opened, he waited a moment for Shin to exit the elevator before he himself left.

Dr. Balkus and Imakarum were waiting for them there, to discus whatever matters that the doctor felt could only be safely discussed with Shin and himself. Still, Fried'rich wanted to resolve the matter of Zektor's feelings for Imakarum – to find out if the animosity displayed by the Hyper Zoanoid was mutual – before he became distracted thinking about another topic.

"You two came; thank you for responding so promptly," Dr. Balkus said.

Imakarum simply nodded in wordless acknowledgement and welcome when the two of them entered.

"What did you wish to speak with us about, doctor?" he hard Shin ask.

"Before I begin, I need both you and Purg'stall to swear that you will stand beside our Lord, Alkanphel, when the time comes."

"Why would you even ask us this?" he queried, forgetting his intended question for a moment. "You know that our loyalty is unquestionable."

"And that it is absolute, I swear to it," Shin said with solemn sincerity.

"As do I," he intoned, bowing.

"The both of you have my deepest and most sincere gratitude," Dr. Balkus said, closing his eyes briefly as he nodded to them. "And I am very proud of you."

A single glance at the pleased expression on Imakarum's face reminded Fried'rich of the matter he had wanted to discus with the other Zoalord. Resolving not to become distracted once more, he turned to face Imakarum.

"I do apologize for no mentioning my intention, Dr. Balkus," he said, turning to offer a short bow to the elder Zoalord. "I'm afraid that I became rather distracted; if I could be permitted to speak with Imakarum for a few moments, I would be most appreciative."

"Very well," Dr. Balkus said. "I suppose that I can wait a few more moments to relate the story that I have called you here to hear."

"What did you wish to speak to me about, Lord Fried'rich?"

"Zektor came here this morning, seeking information about Ingriam's health and whereabouts," he said, observing Imakarum's face and manner carefully for any sign of the Twelfth Zoalord's infamous temper.

He needn't have searched so diligently.

"_Zektor_?! That miserable, arrogant piece of Zoanoid garbage was trying to worm his way closer to Kenji?" Imakarum paused, fists and teeth clenched as he clearly struggled to regain his composure. "You didn't tell him where Kenji was staying, did you?"

"The fact that I have not the slightest idea where your son has been taken to receive treatment for his injuries notwithstanding, I would never divulge such information until I had found out if it was against your wishes or not."

"Thank you, Lord Fried'rich," Imakarum said, his demeanor rather more calm for the time he had been allowed to regain his composure. "I suppose I may have overreacted somewhat."

_Somewhat?_ Fried'rich repeated to himself; Imakarum's outburst had not been mild at all. Overprotective father he may well have been, but Zektor had seemed to genuinely have Ingriam's best interest at heart. Just why Imakarum had reacted so fiercely to even the thought of him was a puzzle; it did not seem feasible to pursue the answers at the moment, however. To say nothing of Imakarum's rather pronounced lack of enthusiasm for discussing the animosity he harbored toward Zektor, Dr. Balkus had called them here for specific reasons; it would be extremely discourteous of him to continue a conversation about another topic.

So Fried'rich shelved his curiosity for the time being, making a mental note to speak with Zektor at the next opportunity he could arrange for himself.

"Is that all you wanted to speak to me about, Lord Fried'rich?"

"Yes," he said, nodding.

It was the truth, after all. Imakarum had already shown that the animosity Zektor had shown towards him was as nothing compared to that which he felt for the Hyper Zoanoid in return. Fried'rich was curious to know Zektor's thoughts on the matter; what he felt he had or had not done to warrant such treatment. Chronos' Twelfth Zoalord was many things, however unfortunately calm and reasonable were rarely counted among them.

"If there is indeed nothing more that you would be interested in speaking to Imakarum about, then we will return to the original purpose of this meeting," Dr. Balkus stated, presiding over their gathering the way he had been when the four of them had first gathered in this room. "Shin, Purg'stall, I called you here because the both of you have demonstrated absolute loyalty to Alkanphel in the past. Such a thing is what is required now more than ever; the secrets that I am about to share with you concerns Alkanphel's personal health. If the wrong people were to become aware of this, it is very possible that Alkanphel could be placed in grave danger."

_-With all due respect, Dr. Balkus,-_ he said, using his telepathy so that the Zoalord in question would not overhear the conversation; it being rather unlikely that he would have appreciated being talked about in such a way. _-Why did you call Imakarum here? We all know who he was before; there might be a chance that he will return to what he was before coming into contact with Lord Alkanphel, might there not?-_

_-No. There is not the slightest chance that the personality of that man, Masaki Murakami, will be able to return. Leaving aside the holds that Chronos has over him, there are other factors that will ensure Imakarum's loyalty.-_

_-Holds?- _Fried'rich repeated, and then realized just what it was that Dr. Balkus was most likely referring to. _-You mean the boy?-_

_-Yes.-_

It was a simple answer, but the implications were not lost on him. The ruthlessness of such a decision staggered him, even in spite of all that he had seen and done on X-Day. Those actions had been necessary to ensure that Chronos' victory could be attained with a minimum of bloodshed and loss of civilian lives, but to hold the life of a child hostage to ensure his father's cooperation… it was simply unconscionable.

"Imakarum already knows some of the story that I am about to relate," Dr. Balkus said, not sounding at all as though he had been carrying on a second conversation. "I brought him here so that he might come to understand Lord Alkanphel's situation more completely." _-If you are still curious as to what other factors are in place to ensure Imakarum's loyalty, you and Shin are welcome to stay after I have finished with this tale.-_

_-Shin has expressed these concerns as well?-_

_-Yes. He spoke just before you did, asking much the same questions. I made the same offer to him that I am making to you.-_

_-Very well. I do appreciate your consideration, Dr. Balkus.-_


	5. Family of two kinds

Kenji's heartbeat was steady, and with what that vile, insolent child Agito Makashima had done to his youngest son, that was really all that he could hope for at the moment. Kenji's eyes were still closed, but the boy had grown restless; it was as if he were dreaming.

_-What are you dreaming of, my child?-_

Skimming the surface of Kenji's mind, he found that the young Zoalord was apparently dreaming about him. Since he had never before found it necessary to place one of his children into his lifepod to be healed, Alkanphel had not known that those parts of his life that dealt with the Advents and his abandonment by them after the incident with the first Guyver. On the one hand, he was rather pleased that the secret of his origins and of his early life would be known only to one of the most devoted of his sons, but on the other, Kenji was now more likely to worry about his wellbeing than he did before.

It was simply a part of the young Zoalord's nature.

Kenji would, therefore, need reassurance that even in spite of all he had seen and was seeing, all would be well and that he had no need to worry himself over Alkanphel's own health. Of course, there _was_ still the chance that he would be forced to return to his hibernation before Kenji had been completely healed and restored to consciousness. It was not a thought that he particularly enjoyed entertaining, but he knew his own body; Masaki would be able to take care of Kenji if he was indeed forced to return to his hibernation before Kenji could be safely awakened.

Setting his hands on the outer membrane of his lifepod, Alkanphel looked over Kenji's slumbering form once more. There was no real change: Kenji's Zoacrystal was still riven with cracks, and hence the little one was still unconscious. It was not a situation he enjoyed, but it was the one he had to cope with, all the same.

XxXxX

When he and his three comrades had been dispatched to the Beta Site to help Ryan and Aptom with getting the place up and running, he hadn't been expecting the greenhouses, or the city full of Aptom clones. On the other hand, he knew how Aptom ate and what he fed on; this place must have been the ultimate smorgasbord for him. The hollow area under the greenhouses – a pretty damned good idea, those: they'd provide food _and_ more than half-decent cover – was about twice the size of the cathedrals that he and his mother had toured when he was just a little kid.

They'd brought in some gas generators and set up some lights; after all, most of them couldn't see in the dark.

Looking out over the expanse of the cavern that had been hollowed out for and around them, Dean reflected that this was one of the stranger sights that he had seen in his life. He'd been trained to fight Zoanoids since the day he'd joined the ACTF, and now to see more than a hundred of them working to build the Beta Site – even if they _were_ Aptom's loyal clones, or "minions" as Ryan called them – well, it took some getting used to.

It was Byron who had come up with the idea of taking shifts; they didn't want to run the generators _too_ long, and everyone knew that they could count on Ryan to keep Aptom and his clones in line.

There'd been beds set up in the tool- and supply-sheds to accommodate them, and the place had been expanded quite a bit. Or at least that was what Ryan had reported; still, he'd know best, since he'd been there from the beginning. Settling down in "the Pit", watching Aptom and his clones scraping, digging, and picking away at the walls and floor of the cavern, he noticed that there was a familiar person missing from the group of diggers. Before he could start to wonder too much about where Ryan had gotten himself off to, Dean heard a sigh and a soft thump from his right-hand side.

Turning, he saw that Ryan was the one sitting next to him now.

The kid's arms had clearly been full of apples, apples that he had dumped in his lap as soon as the opportunity had presented itself. He busily eating one of them, while five others rested in his lap. Dean knew Ryan well enough by now to know that the kid wouldn't appreciate an attempt at conversation while he was trying to eat, so Dean just sat back and watched.

The kid ate pretty fast; not fast enough to choke himself or anything, just fast enough that it became obvious that he'd been craving that food for quite awhile. Settling back against the wall of the cavern, Dean faced front and listened to the sounds of apples being eaten, while at the same time watching Aptom's various clones as they went about their work. Once he stopped hearing the sounds of someone eating, Dean turned to look back at the redhead sitting next to him.

"So, how've you been holding up lately, kid? Happy to have some people around who _aren't_ Aptom?" he took a closer look at the kid's face. "Or, are you still digesting your food, and you want me to shut up now?"

"Nah, I'm good. I kind of wished one of you guys had brought some mushroom pizza, but I guess it's too late to complain now."

"Guess so," he said, with a soft chuckle.

That was the second time that the kid had mentioned mushroom pizza, or the third; at least according to what the Aptom clones had been saying. The kid obviously had a real craving for the stuff, and if he hadn't been so well versed in the dangers that the outside world held for them now, he might have wondered why the kid didn't just head up to the surface and try to get some for himself. But, there was always the risk of Chronos' Avian-type Zoanoids flying over this particular area, not to mention the very real threat of Zoanoids from other areas taking an interest in this town.

It may have been small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but none of them could afford to be blasé about their security to the point where they compromised their mission.

XxXxX

It wasn't one of the usual "let's kiss the Boss' ass by getting him some new stuffed animals"; they were genuinely worried about the kidlet and wanted to do something nice for him. He'd told the rest of Team Five what Lord Purg'stall had told him, and they had all volunteered to come with him to buy some gifts to give the kidlet when he got home.

"Oh, look," Zancrus chuckled. "I'm an action figure!"

Not that there weren't some annoying distractions along the way.

"We're _all_ action figures, you cheesehead," Gaster drawled, and Zektor saw him smack the top of Zancrus' head with the box that contained his own action figure.

Shaking his head at the antics of the rest of his team, Zektor moved on; making for the table that held the load of plush toys that the store had for them to choose from. He knew that cats were the kidlet's favorite kind of animal; unlike those stupid suck-ups who'd just grab any soft, fluffy thing to buy for him. They'd even bought him _parrots_, for Christ's sake! Of course, it wasn't like their little Overlord actually _minded_ having a big collection of plush toys, but it was the principle of the thing.

There was a large collection of cats: tigers, cheetahs, pumas, housecats, panthers, and leopards; and even some other types of cats that he hadn't seen before, so he had least had a good selection to choose from. Zektor hadn't picked up a cheetah in awhile, and he knew that that was the kidlet's favorite type of wild cat. He also wanted to pick up a tabby to go with it, since that was their little Overlord's favorite type of domestic cat.

And, lucky him, he could see that there was a large selection of plush tabbies for him to choose from. Picking out a pair of tabbies and a pair of cheetahs, Zektor began to turn away just as Elegen took a leopard from the pile; the kid's second favorite. Smiling as he made his way to the front of the store to get to the checkout counter, Zektor handed over the four plushies he'd bought.

The plushies were soon enough paid for and then bagged up so he could carry them more easily. Signaling for the rest of Team Five to follow him, Zektor lead them out of the toy store. After they had finished their shopping, they could head to the food court for some lunch.


	6. Among friends

They'd stopped recruiting for a month, while they worked to train the greenhorns, and their number had grown by two since they'd started again. That might not have seemed like such a large number to someone else, but Lieutenant Richards knew that it was all he could reasonably expect in this area at this time.

Interest in being processed seemed to have dropped off in this area, and since this base didn't process people involuntarily, that limited their supply of potential recruits. On the one hand, that was a good thing: no involuntary processing meant no extra guards for them to deal with; no extra security hoops to jump through when they went to free the people down in the holding cells; to say nothing of the issues with respect to morality. The bad side, or in this case the downside, was that there were far fewer people coming into this base, and thus far fewer that they could safely recruit.

Other than that, however, things were going well; the tunnel that would link this place – already being called the First Hub – to the Beta Site was already under construction at the lowest level of the sub-basement.

This place, according to what Aptom had been able to piece together from his clones stationed at the other bases, was overshadowed in importance by the other processing plants in the area. They had known that this was one of the smaller facilities that Chronos maintained; that was one of many reasons that this place had been chosen to begin what was to become a vast network of underground tunnels.

Two of Aptom's clones walked in, both pulling weapons out of their chests – two rifles and a handgun out of the one on the right, and a trio of RPGs out of the one on the left – and making their way over to what had swiftly become this base's munitions dump. Most of the ammunition that had originally been used in the rifles, shotguns, and most especially in the handguns was all but useless to them. He'd gotten a few reports of Aptom's clones dumping live ammo down the incinerator chutes, seemingly just to amuse themselves listening to the shells exploding. He'd put a stop to that quickly.

Useless against transformed Zoanoids or not, it was more than possible to reuse the materials for ammunition that _would_ kill those things where they stood.

Aptom had grumbled and sulked – the way he always did when he wasn't allowed to do something stupidly destructive that he found fun – but in the end he'd done as he'd been asked. That was one of the many reasons that Richards preferred not to have to deal with him. The man – he couldn't be called human anymore, but it was clear that he considered himself a man all the same – was belligerent, lazy, given to playing juvenile pranks when his short attention-span inevitably resulted in boredom, took an irritating amount of pleasure in annoying people who got on his bad side, and he was a sadistic son of a bitch besides.

All of that _could_ be counterbalanced by the fact that he was an unholy terror to face in combat.

Still, the fact remained that when they were out of the line of fire was when the Zoanoid-eater's more annoying habits and personality traits began to show through.

XxXxX

He'd settled into a comfortable rut; something he'd never honestly expected to have found in a _Chronos processing facility_ of all places, but now he'd been getting bored. He'd gotten _some_ fun out of the place, at least up until that petty tyrant Richards had yelled at him and ordered him to stop; as if any of _his_ orders meant something to any of them.

Still, it was a bit less of a pain in the ass if he just pretended to go along with what ol' Lieutenant Hardass wanted from him. That _didn't_ mean that he couldn't dump any more live ammo down the chutes just to watch it blow up, it just meant that he was going to have to be more careful about who was watching him do it. He'd been around here long enough to know which of the soldier-types would rat him out to the Hardass, which of them could be threatened into keeping their big mouths shut, and also the few people who would think what he was doing was funny and so help him scrounge up more ammo to chuck down the chutes.

Right now, though, he wasn't thinking about any of that. Aptom was in commune; the others, the ones in place at the Alpha Site, were getting restless again. He'd told them to stay put, but they were starting to crave food that _hadn't_ been pre-digested; the ones helping the Guyver kid to dig out the new base were making good progress; some of the others stationed at the Alpha Site were even starting to help move new people into that base, while some of those here were already in the process of scoping out the next base. Since there weren't going to be any civilians living at that particular base – unlike the Alpha Site, which was quickly becoming mostly civilians – dealing with any Zoanoids who were stupid enough to try to invade was going to be fun. Things back in Japan were going pretty well, though the fact that a certain little Zoabrat had been put down for the count by the Dark Guyver himself was a bit surprising.

He was glad to hear it, all the same; it meant that all he had to do was find out where that little baby Zoalord was staying for treatment, and then it would only be a matter of time before he – one of him, at least – was feasting on the kid. He knew that, wherever the kid was being kept, it was going to have security out the ass. Still, there wasn't a Zoanoid alive who was a match for him; not even those psychotic, vicious Enzyme IIIs, thanks to Professor I-gave-myself-Zoanoid-parts.

Continuing to gather his desired information, this time from the others who had taken up residence inside Chronos' Cheyenne Mountain base, he found that at least a few of the lab rats were looking like they wanted to throw in their lot with the Professor and his ilk; no matter how hard Chronos and their lackeys tried, they could never seem to stamp out those little rebellions; probably because everyone with half a brain hated them. Still, that meant that he was going to have to start vetting people again.

It _was_ kind of boring to have to keep doing that, but he'd been given the job of protecting the people down in the Alpha Site's underground city. They'd be helpless against a Zoanoid incursion without him, especially considering the number of ACTF guards and soldiers that were leaving to take up posts at the Beta Site. Those people needed him; it was a good feeling, that: being needed again.


	7. Tempered Hopelessness

Hauling herself back to her feet, spitting blood and hurriedly ducking out of the way of another punch, Samarubu gritted her teeth and held herself ready for the follow-up attack she knew was coming. That wrinkled old bastard of a Zoalord had set these five Gustav and three Galmaru on her, supposedly to test her battle prowess, but she knew what that old sadist _really_ wanted. Watching her get beaten to within an inch of her life was probably just a _bonus_, as far as he was concerned.

He was probably hoping to watch her die; just like any of his kind would have wanted.

Rolling out of the way of a tackle after she'd been knocked to the floor, she quickly regained her footing and ignited her right hand as she subtly maneuvered herself into a better position for her next strike. Fire might not have been able to do _that_ much damage to the armor-plated hide of those bastard Zoanoids, but she'd been learning to burn hotter lately. And, she'd already managed to burn out the eyes of one of the Galmaru; he wasn't _quite_ dead, but at this rate it was really only a matter of time before she solved that little problem.

Slamming her ignited fist into the throat of the nearest Gustav, she willed that fist to burn all the hotter as she drove it into his throat. His screaming was starting to get kind of annoying, but Samarubu knew that once she incinerated his vocal chords he'd shut up. Ducking then leaping back out of the way as another Gustav and a Galmaru ran at her from both sides, she smirked briefly as they just barely avoided slamming into each other.

Her amusement didn't last long, however; the six relatively uninjured Zoanoids rushed her all at once.

Leaping out from the middle of the charging circle of Zoanoids, Samarubu ignited her entire body and dove for the nearest of them. The Gustav reeled back as she started hammering him with flaming fists and feet. Clawing at his eyes as he grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to hold her in place, she managed to entirely destroy one of his eyes and badly scorch the other. Pouring more energy into the flames that radiated from every inch of her body, Samarubu narrowed her eyes.

She hadn't yet managed to _kill_ one of them yet, and even the blind one was still dangerous enough that she wasn't about to discount it. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to test out that new application of her power she'd been hashing out when she could steal the time for it. Crouching, she leaped as high as her enhanced leg-muscles would allow, and then flared her entire body. The flash was as bright as good magnesium powder, but it left her with a severely unpleasant dizziness. Still, she'd been expecting as much, considering how much she had practiced the technique, so she was able to make a near-perfect landing even while she _wasn't_ at her best. As the Zoanoids stumbled and staggered, blinded for the moment, she dove right back into their midst.

Locking her hands around the throat of the foremost Zoanoid, she crushed his neck even as she burned her way through his bone and tissue; leaving the quickly-dissolving corpse to slump to the ground. Charging into the next Zoanoid in her path, Samarubu drove a knife-hand thrust deep into his gut.

The rest of them were starting to show signs of regaining their eyesight, not that it was _really_ going to be a problem for about five minutes at least. That was a good thing; the dizziness and slight nausea caused by what she had privately taken to calling her Flashfire Burst wouldn't be so troublesome if she had at least _some_ time to recover. Running past the half-dissolved corpse of the Gustav she'd just killed, Samarubu grabbed the shoulders of a nearby Galmaru and used them to land a vaulting double-axe-handle on the thing's head.

That left only four Zoanoids; all Gustav-types.

Leaping back into the air for another Burst, she felt the symptoms of the technique return, just slightly stronger than before. The Gustav weren't _quite_ quick enough to cover their eyes in time, so when she landed, Samarubu was at least able to catch her breath before she started moving again. Still, it was far easier for her to crack the shells of the Galmaru than it was for her to burn through the layers of muscle and assorted tissue that made those damned Gustav all but impervious to impacts.

But then, that was probably the whole point of that bastard Zoalord siccing them on her in the first place; the more Samarubu was forced to deal with him, the more she learned to hate him.

XxXxX

It had been half an hour since she'd left, and Yith had been monitoring her ever since. Samarubu was stubborn and protective; she had offered to go in place of any other of their little group of Lost Units. The head of those bastard lab rats, that asshole Dr. Balkus, had only "requested" that one of their Lost Units report to him in the Proving Grounds; of course, a request from that one wasn't something anyone but the stupidest of stupid idiots would refuse.

He'd been in contact with her a few times, but the contact itself was difficult to maintain – bordering on impossible at times – but at least he and the others had _some_ idea of how she was doing. Ral and Alvade had been worried about her too, of course, but Ral also knew just how badly using his telepathy strained him at the best of times; and _this_ was hardly the best of times. He and Ralgax had been friends from the beginning; Ral being the first of them created. Then Alvade and Samarubu had joined them; Alvade may have been the youngest of their group, but Samarubu had been created last.

Massaging his temples to stave off an impending headache, Yith leaned back against the wall of their room and wished vainly for some painkillers. This day had started out fairly well; none of the lab rats had seemed to be interested in tormenting them, at least; and down here you took what you could get. But, that had turned out to be because that asshole Zoalord had staked _his_ claim on them _first_.

He'd also found out that Samarubu's volunteering to take the place of one of the others in their group had only affected the _order_ that all of them would be forced to make their appearances before that old bastard of a head lab rat in. All it meant, in the end, was that Samarubu was going to be getting the most out of all of them. No one could deny the fact that she'd have earned it, after all she'd done to try to shoulder the burdens of their little family. She and Ral had even started working together to keep the lab rats from finding out about his… particular talent.

Yith worried about them, but since he had no desire to die screaming on a dissection table, he knew that the best thing for him to de was to keep quiet and let the others take care of him. It was hard, at times even painful, but such was the life of Lost Units in Chronos.

When Samarubu came stumbling back in, weaving about dizzily and hanging her head in obvious weariness, he was one of the first to stand and make an effort to help her. The sudden movement gave him an unpleasant head-rush, and as he found himself forced to sit back down suddenly, Yith was grateful for Alvade's having gotten up at the same time. The kid could take care of Samarubu; he still wasn't at his best yet.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, as strong arms wrapped around him before he could fall. "I guess I might have overdid it a bit. I know, you keep telling me not to be reckless with my health, Ral, but I can't just sit here and do _nothing_."

"I know," Ralgax said. "I know you don't like being out of contact with us, but you have to remember that you're the most vulnerable one of us. You have to start thinking about your own safety, Yith."

"I know, Ral," he said, trying not to stumble as Ralgax helped him to settle back down on his bed. "I know that; but I still can't help worrying about you guys when you're out of the Haven. You know the kind of crap those lab rats try to pull when they get one of us alone. And we all know what they want with Sam, her being the only one of her kind and all."

"I know you worry about her; I do, too. But, you still have to look out for yourself, Yith."

Leaning against Ralgax's chest as he was, feeling his oldest friend as Ral began massaging his temples, Yith let himself relax just a bit. He would have to keep at least _some_ form of contact with whichever of the others that sadistic bastard of a head lab rat Dr. Balkus decided to drag out next. Ralgax wouldn't be happy about it, of course, but that was what he had to do to be able to live with himself down here.

He couldn't just leave any of the others – his _comrades – _alone when they were in the hands of those vicious, uncaring bastards. Ralgax felt just the same; they all did. He'd understand, even if he _didn't_ approve of the risks being run.

Yith knew the risks: a Lost Unit with his powers, rudimentary as they were, would die screaming.

XxXxX

When another of the lab rats came into the Haven, after he'd finished tucking Aunt Sammy into bed so she could get some sleep, Alvade turned to glare at them. He'd learned long ago to hate every last one of them; soft-spoken as some of them were, they were nothing more than groveling, toadying lackeys to that heartless, malicious asshole of a head lab rat Dr. Balkus. Ralgax had been more than willing to take some of the heat off of _him_ those times he hadn't been feeling well – mostly for various reasons involving lab rats – and now he was busily taking care of Yith.

It was time for Alvade to return the favor.

"Lost-"

"I'll go," he said, cutting in before the new lab rat could say another word.

_He_ certainly wasn't in the mood to carry on a conversation with one of these jackasses.

"Very well then," the lab rat said, with that same pompous tone they all seemed to have.

Alvade was particularly proud of himself for resisting the urge to punch the bastard in the face right then and there. The two of them were silent throughout the trip, since he'd no particular desire to share his thoughts with a lab rat, and there wasn't a lab rat alive who'd have ever been willing to shoot the breeze with a "mere" Lost Unit. He'd lived this life _more_ than long enough to know that.

XxXxX

The Lost Number seemed determined to be belligerent, which was a shame since he had been rather interested in speaking to the boy. He'd been hoping that, due to the boy's obvious youth, he wouldn't have had time to develop the attitude problem that had seemed to characterize every Lost Number that he'd met in the past. It seemed that such wasn't the case, however.

The Lost Number Alvade was just like every other Lost Number that Dr. Edward Nathaniel had ever met. However, perhaps that was merely a product of his prolonged stay with those four other Lost Numbers – all of them adults – for so long. It would, perhaps, be interesting to see if being separated from the Lost Numbers Samarubu, Ralgax, Yith and Halvra would have a positive effect on his personality. Maybe he could even become known as the first person to successfully re-socialize a Lost Number.

As the boy walked alone into the Proving Ground, Dr. Nathaniel decided on his next course of action. Maybe it wouldn't be the most celebrated discovery in Chronos' history; anyone could see that Lost Numbers weren't very well-regarded within the organization, but it _would_ most likely make the young Lost Number's life just that much easier.


	8. Matters of Family

They had wanted to see him, Lords Fried'rich and Shin had expressed an honest interest in Kenji's welfare. So, after consulting Lord Alkanphel about the matter, he had invited them to Silha so that they could check up on Kenji for themselves. Although there were times that privately wondered whether or not Kenji was going to wake up at all… but that was stupid, Lord Alkanphel would not allow Kenji to remain unconscious forever. He and Lord Hamilcal knew everything there was to know about Zoalord physiology.

Kenji was in the best possible care, really.

"I am pleased to know that Ingriam is being so well cared for," Lord Shin said, as he gently touched the shell of the pod where Kenji slept. "Do you have any idea when he will have recovered enough to rejoin our ranks?"

"No," he said.

There was no real way for him _to_ know; Lord Alkanphel would take care of him better than anyone else in Chronos would have the means to. Kenji would be healed and restored to him soon, but _how_ soon was a matter he could only guess at. There was no way of telling how long this would take, as no such injury had been inflicted on any Zoalord before. This was completely unprecedented; it would be all but impossible to predict what would happen under these new circumstances.

No matter how much he wished to know what would become of his son.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lord Fried'rich said. "I would ask how I could provide assistance for you in these trying times, but I rather doubt that there is anything that would take your mind off of your son's condition."

"Yes," he muttered, his eyes fixed once more on Kenji's insensate form.

True, there wasn't a thing that would drive the thoughts of Kenji's injuries from his mind, but there _were_ still some things that he wished to know.

"Lord Shin, have you found out anything about Miaka's family?"

"I have found some candidates that match the description you gave me of her, but this search would prove a great deal easier if I possessed more information. Are you certain that you cannot remember her maiden name?"

He paused for a moment to think back, his gaze settling on a patch of stone floor just beneath the pod Kenji was resting in. "Her last name… before she married, I remember it was Chapman. Her name was Melissa Chapman."

"That's a rather pretty name. Quite distinctive, as well. I should be able to locate the branch of the Chapman family that she belonged to a great deal more easily with this information."

"Thank you, Lord Shin," he said, raising his head to smile at the Fourth Zoalord.

He was very grateful to Lord Shin; even though he had been asked by Lord Alkanphel to give what aid he could, Chronos' Supreme Overlord had not made that an order. Lord Shin had his own duties overseeing the operations conducted in the North American Section. It was an involved task, even for a Zoalord.

"If you will excuse me, I must return to the Japan Section," Lord Fried'rich said.

"Of course. I'm very grateful to you both for coming. It means a great deal to me, and I'm certain it would mean a great deal to Kenji, as well," he said, returning to his silent vigil as both Lords Fried'rich and Shin left the temple. _I wish you could hear me right now, Kenji-chan._

XxXxX

The soldiers had been moving out in small groups for about three and a half months by now; if it hadn't been for all the Aptom clones they still had on hand to defend them, Cassie would have been too worried to go about her normal routine. She still had work to do, down in the greenhouses, and then the air-filters needed to be taken care of. There were still things that needed to be done, even though it looked like circumstances were changing again. A lot of things would probably change, now that the soldiers had started to leave, but life would go on even in spite of the changes to what had become the status quo.

"Where do you think the soldiers have been going?"

"I don't really know, Marco. But I'm glad we still have Sean and all of those Aptom clones with us, I don't know what we'd do without anyone to protect us from Chronos."

"Speaking of protection, aren't _you_ going to be leaving with them?" Marco asked. "Didn't you join up with them yesterday?"

"Yeah, I did," she said, pausing for a moment to reflect on her decision. "I guess I really will be leaving with them. I don't actually know when, though."

"Or how, I'd guess," Rachel added, looking like she was taking a break from turning over soil for a bit. "I mean, with Chronos have pretty much taken over the world and all, how do you think they're getting the soldiers past those Zoanoids?"

"I don't quite know," she admitted. "I think it might involve Aptom, somehow; but I can't really guess how."

Leaning against her shovel again, she continued to turn over the soil. It was her job and she was going to do it, at least until she was called to leave with the rest of the ACTF. This was her home, insomuch as a huge, underground refugee camp could be considered a home to _anyone_, and she was going to protect it with everything she had.

"Well, I'd say we're done for today," Jake said, sounding about as tiredly satisfied as she felt. "Let's go get some lunch."

"All right," she said, picking up her shovel. "Let's go put these up before we eat, okay?"

"Don't we always?" Rachel asked, chuckling softly at her own rhetorical question.

The rest of them chuckled a bit, too, even as they made their way back to the toolshed to put up their shovels. When that was finished with, Cassie could almost _feel_ the fact that someone was watching her. Turning, she saw that one of Aptom's many clones was standing just outside the shed. With his arms folded over his broad chest, and an expression of semi-grudging interest on his scarred face, it was clear to Cassie that he'd been waiting for her.

"Is it time already?" she asked, suspecting she knew the answer but wanting confirmation all the same.

"Yeah, it's time. So why don't you come with me, and I'll explain how things are going to go from here on out?"

"All right. Bye, guys. I guess I might see you again, someday."

"Listen, Cass, you make sure to take care of yourself while you get used to the soldier life, okay?" Jake asked, his hands on both her shoulders.

"And make sure you don't work _too_ hard," Marco advised, a sly grin playing about his mouth.

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind," she said, offering up a grin to cover her own unease.

She was going off to be a soldier now; it was really happening, no more doubts while she ran increasingly-complex combat drills and waited for things to happen. Even though she had wanted to help defend the freedom of the human race and the people she loved, the thought of going into battle with Chronos' Zoanoids was still a daunting one. She'd never seriously fought anyone in her life; sure, there had been bullies at school, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

This- this was going to be actual combat. That kind of thing was completely different from some little squabble at school; people's lives were going to be at stake, here. There was always going to be the chance that people – people she _knew_ – would die fighting for the freedom of others they didn't even know.

"Less chatting, more walking, kid," Aptom said. "We've got urgent business with Atkins and company."

"All right, I'm coming."

Taking Aptom's arm as he offered it to her, Cassie turned and waved a last goodbye to her friends. Then she let Aptom lead her away from the group still standing around the toolshed, and away from the life that she had known for so long. She was a soldier now; things were going to be very different from this day forward.

"Well, what deep thoughts are _you_ thinking?"

Cassie turned, seeing Aptom's habitual smirk now aimed at her.

"I'm not really thinking about anything in particular," she lied, not wanting to explain that kind of thing to Aptom.

He may have been one of their most valuable allies – aside from the four Guyvers, of course – but that didn't make him any less creepy to have to deal with. He _ate_ people, for crying out loud!

"I guess that's pretty normal," he drawled, tone practically dripping with not-so-nice insinuations. "You're still just a teenager, right?"

If she hadn't been so familiar with Aptom's screwed up methods of interrogation, Cassie would have been tempted to yell at him. To tell him what she'd been thinking – perhaps at high volume – just to prove she'd been thinking _something_. That was what made his methods so clever: get someone angry enough, and they would talk without realizing just what they were talking _about_. Either that or they would punch you in the face, but Aptom could deal with that just fine, too.

"Nice try, Aptom. But I'm not falling for your old tricks."

"Well, damn. I guess you're just too smart for me."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she drawled.

"I hate you," he deadpanned.

When she looked up again, it was to see that Atkins and another pair of Aptom's clones were waiting for them. She wondered for a moment just what the oxygen tank sitting on the floor next to the left clone's feet was for, but since she was likely going to find out soon anyway, she kept her piece.

"So, are we going to get on with this now, or are you just going to keep staring at me like some kind of a moron?"

"She hasn't been briefed on the procedure yet, Aptom," Atkins said, sounding annoyed but tolerant; for the moment, anyway. "Don't be impatient."

"You mean, no one bothered to tell her what we were going to be doing out here?" Aptom demanded, obviously annoyed in the extreme. "Your people didn't even bother trying to track her down?"

"She was staying in the civilian sector; none of my men wanted to be responsible for alarming the general populace by letting them find out what we needed to do to get our people past those blockades."

Looking between the Aptom clones and Atkins, getting the distinct feeling that she wasn't going to particularly like whatever method they were talking around, Cassie resigned herself to that fact. As long as the method they were using worked – and it seemed to, given the fact that she hadn't heard anything about the other groups being captured or killed by Zoanoids – then she wasn't going to complain. At least, not out loud… while Aptom was close enough to hear.

"All right," Aptom snapped, well and truly pissed off and clearly not caring just who knew about it. "Let's just get this over with. You," he pointed her out, leaving no possible doubt as to who he was talking about. "Inside me. Now."

Maybe it was just having spent so much time around Marco – who could turn pretty much anything into an innuendo – but the first thought she had when Aptom made that statement was definitely not of the G-rated variety.

"I really hope you don't mean what I think you mean," she said, wincing slightly as she thought about how her mine had gone straight into the gutter; she'd _definitely_ been spending too much time with Marco.

"What?" Aptom – or at least the clone that was talking to her right now – gave her a look of confusion, before he rolled his eyes. "Not _that_, you little cretin! What the hell did you bring _that_ up for?"

"It was the first thing that came to mind," she said, feeling sheepish.

"I'd say you've been hanging around a certain little wiseass we all know too much," he snorted. "But, we all know he hasn't been here for about seven months by now."

He laughed, even as Atkins gave him a sideways look and Cassie herself wondered who he was talking about. Marco hadn't been gone for seven months; he hadn't been gone at all, but then Aptom had never met Marco in the first place. So he couldn't have been talking about Marco, no matter how much the description might have fit. That still begged the question of just who he'd been talking about.

Still, it wasn't something she had time to think about right now.

"What did you need me to do?"

"Just pick up that tank and stand with your back to me."

He was smirking slightly, but then he was _always_ smirking slightly, so there was no real way to tell if she should be worried or not.

"Do I really have to turn my back?"

"Well, you don't really _have_ to, but the last guy who decided to watch while I did this ran off screaming and we haven't been able to find him since."

"That's a blatant fabrication and you know it, Aptom," Atkins deadpanned.

By now, Cassie was well and truly unnerved by what she had been asked to do. But that was really more Aptom's fault than anyone else's. There _was_ always the chance that he was screwing with her, the way people who worked with him always said he enjoyed doing. And, since there was really no other way for her to join up with the rest of the ACTF, to help them continue their fight against Chronos with all of the new limits placed on them, this was what she was going to have to do.

With that thought to steady her, Cassie picked up the oxygen tank and stood with her back to Aptom, firmly resolved not to move no matter what happened. Her newfound resolve was sorely tested, however, when she began to feel something that could pass as warmed-over Jello sliding up over her back.

"What in the-" she began, only to cut herself off once whatever-it-was became visible; just as it started creeping across her stomach.

It was vaguely flesh-colored, and given the way it was moving, there couldn't be any doubts about who it belonged to.

"Aptom?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, even as his malleable biomass began sliding up to cover her shoulders; her stomach having been enveloped just a bit before. "Just think of me as a human-shaped shipping container."

"Don't you mean Zoanoid-shaped? I mean, isn't that how you made it past all those patrols?" she asked, even as Aptom's biomass continued its inexorable climb up her body; her sides and flanks had already been covered, but he'd still left her arms free.

"That's right. But, if you don't want to end up getting suffocated while I get my parts in order, I'd put that oxygen tank to use. Then again, that _is_ just a suggestion."

She could tell that Aptom was smirking all the wider just by the tone of his voice, but at least now she knew what the oxygen tank she'd been given was actually _for_. She already knew how to use one from all her time spent scuba-diving, both with her family and with friends, and even if she hadn't, one of the remaining ACTF troops here had offered to instruct her. Aptom was apparently giving her every second he could spare, since her arms were still free even up to this point, so she decided not to impinge on his generosity any more than she already had.

Raising the breather-attachment on the tank, she fastened it to her face, and then she waited. Waited as Aptom's malleable biomass lifted her off her feet; waited as she felt herself being pulled backwards into the shifting mass of quasi-viral cells that made up one of the ACTF's strangest allies. When she felt Aptom's biomass creeping up her cheeks, Cassie closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. Thankful that she didn't have any kind of claustrophobia, Cassie wondered if _that_ was why she'd been asked about just that kind of thing when she'd enlisted in the first place.

It seemed pretty reasonable, all things considered.


	9. Burn down the sky

He had been waiting for over a month by now. One month and seven days of watching Kenji sleep, alone and helpless in the pod where Lord Alkanphel had placed him to heal. It was not right that a Zoalord should be in this state; not right that _his son_ should have been made to suffer like this. He would rend Guyver III limb-from-limb for this; he would hunt down all of those who held even a minor association with that loathsome lowlife Agito Makashima and kill them slowly.

That brat would pay in blood for what he had done.

When he began to feel a strange thrumming in the air, Imakarum looked to the ceiling of the temple. It felt almost like the Ark; the one time that he had been privileged to see Lord Alkanphel's great ship – when he and the rest of the Council had helped to raise it from the bottom of the Dead Sea – that same powerful resonance had filled the air. But the Ark was in orbit now; it had been so for over a year at this point in time.

There was, indeed, the chance that one of his fellow Lords was flying the great ship; perhaps even Lord Alkanphel himself. Still, the question of just why one of his fellow Lords would be flying over this particular stretch of ocean remained open. There were only six Zoalords who were even aware of Silha's existence; with himself and Kenji on the island, that left only four in the world at large. However, all of the Council knew of the Ark and its capabilities.

A sudden surge of energy forced Imakarum to leap back from his original position before the pod, even as it was bathed in an unearthly energy even as he watched. The pod was vibrating; the fluid inside it bubbling as though it were being brought to a slow boil. When he looked more closely, more than that when he focused on Kenji's face, Imakarum found that his son's eyes had just started opening. More than that, his Zoacrystal was whole once more.

The steady glow of Kenji's Zoacrystal, only just visible even _with_ a Zoalord's enhanced vision, was a comforting sight indeed; the crumbling of the pod that held his son, however, was significantly less so.

In a bright burst of light, the pod disintegrated. Kenji, obviously not lucid enough to stand on his own, was left to fall unsupported to the stone floor of Lord Alkanphel's grand temple. Rushing to his son's side, Imakarum found that Kenji had transformed into his battleform – completely inadvertently, considering the state he was still in – and now the situation seemed all the more surreal. It was also an uncomfortable reminder of how Kenji had looked when he had lay at the bottom of Tokyo Bay.

Slipping his arms under his son's broad back, Imakarum gently lifted Kenji back to his feet. Cradling his transformed son against his chest, he felt his hands tingling in the wake of a rush of energy that had washed over them. He could feel his son's skin changing under his hands as Kenji regained his human form, and Imakarum held him all the tighter to reassure the both of them that this long ordeal was over at last.

He had seen his son's Zoacrystal; he knew that it was whole once more, and from that it was clear that the two of them would soon be reunited in every way that mattered.

Looking up as he felt a sudden wave of weariness through his telepathic link with Lord Alkanphel, Imakarum quickly wrapped Kenji up in his cape and set him gently down on the floor. It might not have been the most comfortable of places to rest, but there were not a great deal of other choices at the moment; Lord Alkanphel obviously needed his help quickly. There would be no real harm if Kenji was left to sleep for a little longer.

Even if the stone floor _did_ make him uncomfortable.

Kissing his son's upturned left temple, Imakarum made his way back out into the tropical climate of Silha and swiftly took to the air. Using his barrier to pierce the thick atmosphere between where he stood and the Ark, he closed it just as he exited the breathable parts of said atmosphere. Breaking into low-Earth orbit, Imakarum quickly spotted the Ark and made for it with all the speed he could manage. The bay doors opened smoothly in response to his mental signature, and he waited calmly until they had closed before dispersing his barrier,

Landing on one of the transport platforms, Imakarum waited impatiently to reach the main control center of the Ark; that was where Lord Alkanphel had to be. He was tempted to fly – Lord Alkanphel had clearly been severely weakened, as he could barely sense his Lord's psychic signature – but it was very likely that Lord Alkanphel would need him at full strength. It was simply more prudent to refrain from using any more of his abilities than were strictly necessary.

Once he had reached the main control center, Imakarum caught sight of Lord Alkanphel. The Supreme Overlord of Chronos was slumped in the Main Control Chair, his hands still clenched tightly around the two Control Orbs set into the ends of the armrests. He was close enough now to see that Lord Alkanphel's eyes were still open, though they were at half-mast and he was clearly struggling to keep them that way.

"Masaki," Lord Alkanphel greeted, his voice soft with exhaustion. "I'm glad to see you came so quickly."

"Thank you for reviving Kenji, my Lord," he said, even as he gently pried Lord Alkanphel's clenched fingers loose from the Control Orbs. "But, are you sure that it was wise to use the last of your energy this way?"

"I was awakened by Kenji's distress," Chronos' Supreme Overlord explained, as Imakarum lifted him out of the thronelike Main Control Chair. "I could not simply leave things as they stood."

Lord Alkanphel was substantially lighter than Kenji; it wasn't something he liked to think about, but Lord Alkanphel _was_ one of the shortest members of the Council. Only Lord Kaburaal was shorter, but an observer would have been hard-pressed to tell since Khan had the habit of levitating when he dealt with those outside the Council.

When he stepped onto the transport platform for a second time, letting it carry him back toward the main hanger where he had first entered the Ark, he couldn't help but wonder just how Kenji was doing. He might have awakened by now, but then he could just as easily still be sleeping. There was really no way to tell.

_-Dad?-_

_Except for that one, I suppose,_ he mused, chuckling softly so that Lord Alkanphel wouldn't be disturbed. _-So, you're awake already? I'm glad to see you're so calm, my Kenji-chan. I'll be back with you soon,-_ he said, projecting calm and reassurance so that Kenji wouldn't worry now that he was awake again.

Closing his barrier before the hanger bay doors had started to open, Imakarum waited calmly until the opening was wide enough for him to exit through. Once he'd made it back down into the breathable atmosphere, he dropped those parts of his barrier that had become redundant and flew with only the lower half to protect himself and Lord Alkanphel. Landing back at the temple, Imakarum hurried back inside.

Just as he'd been expecting, Kenji was sitting up among the remains of the pod that had been healing him.

The cape he'd left was still pooled around his son's waist, though it had started up around his neck, and a fair amount had pooled in his lap. He was looking around the room in confusion, fitting since neither of them had been to this part of Lord Alkanphel's temple before, and Kenji had been unconscious the first time.

_-Just wait for me a little longer, Kenji-chan. I have to take care of Lord Alkanphel right now.-_

_-Okay. But, you're going to come back soon, right?-_

_-Of course I will,-_ he said, smiling gently. _-Just be patient.-_

Carrying Lord Alkanphel back to his stone bed and settling Chronos' Supreme Overlord into the indentation that had been shaped for him, Imakarum bowed low in a gesture of thanks for his both taking care of his son and helping to find Miaka's family. He personally wasn't interested in them – they were likely only humans or at best low-level Zoanoids – but he knew that Kenji would be pleased. _Speaking of Kenji…_

Smiling all the wider, he strode back into the room that had previously held Kenji's sleeping form and the pod where Lord Alkanphel had placed him to heal; the one that now contained the shattered remains of that same pod and the bright-eyed, fully conscious form of his son, sitting and waiting for him.

Wrapping Kenji up in his arms once he stood before his son for the first time in far too long, Imakarum ruffled his hair and gently smoothed it back down even as he pulled the child back to his feet. _My boy; my baby boy._ Kissing Kenji directly atop the point where his – now fully repaired, thank god – Zoacrystal would have been if it hadn't already been absorbed back into the flesh of his forehead.

Pressing another kiss, this time against the crown of Kenji's skull, Imakarum leaned his chin against the side of his son's head.

_-I have to go see to a few things back at Chronos, Kenji-chan. But, how about I tuck you in with Lord Alkanphel and then come back for you when I'm done? Would you like that?-_

_-Okay, Daddy. I'm real sleepy.-_

_-Yes, I can see that,-_ he replied, chuckling softly as he felt Kenji leaning ever more heavily against him. _-Here, let's get you out of this messy room,-_ he said, lifting his son up off the floor and proceeding to carry him back into the room where Lord Alkanphel now slept.

As he looked over the stone bed – actually more of a table or an indented slab, now that he considered it – where the Supreme Overlord of Chronos took his repose, Imakarum had a long moment to reconsider his impulsive decision. While he knew now that Lord Alkanphel was unaffected by changes in his environment while he hibernated, the fact remained that Kenji was not; his son wouldn't be hibernating, but merely sleeping. He'd probably wake up sore and irritable if he was left to sleep on Lord Alkanphel's bed.

No matter how fond they both were of Lord Alkanphel, Imakarum wasn't about to leave Kenji to sleep somewhere that would inevitably cause him great discomfort.

Lord Alkanphel could clearly stand it, but Lord Alkanphel was also clearly different than any other Zoalord in the Council; obviously, normal limits could not be applied to him. However, the same did not hold true for Kenji.

_-I'll take you back to Cloud Gate so you can get your rest, Kenji-chan. I don't think you'd be very comfortable here.-_

Teleporting the both of them back to Japan, back inside Cloud Gate, Imakarum gently tucked Kenji into the bed that they both shared. Kissing his son on his upturned right cheek, Imakarum left their room so that he could teleport back out without disturbing him. After all, there were still some matters that he needed to attend to.


End file.
